


At Your Doorstep

by Clearfear



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: 12daysofmattelektra, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I’m sorry, Post-Defenders, Short, mattelektra, slight angst, very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 23:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17089775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clearfear/pseuds/Clearfear
Summary: For the 12 days of MattElektra event! Prompt from @fadedtoblue on tumblr: Matt receives an unexpected gift - Elektra, alive and breathing, on his doorstep. What happens next is up to you!!





	At Your Doorstep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fadedtoblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedtoblue/gifts).



> For the 12 days of MattElektra event! Prompt from @fadedtoblue on tumblr: Matt receives an unexpected gift - Elektra, alive and breathing, on his doorstep. What happens next is up to you!!

He can’t bring himself to get off the couch to turn on the heating. It’s not that cold, anyways. Matt closes his eyes, wishing he had some way to block it all out. People singing Christmas songs, high and off-key in the next building over. Their hearts are fast, happy. He can smell the liquor spiking their drinks from here. The woman who lives in the apartment below his has left her dog home. It’s whining, nails tapping on the linoleum as it paces restlessly. Screeching laughter from the party again has him gritting his teeth and burrowing further under the blanket he’s wrapped in. 

When the knock comes, it’s gentle, quiet. He almost ignores it, but whoever it is is insistent, knocking again and again when he doesn’t answer. Harder. Louder. Matt lets out a heavy sigh, uncurls from his place and stands, blanket sliding off his shoulders and onto the floor with a soft whisper. He must’ve been better at tuning things out than he thought, because he hadn’t heard whoever it was come up the stairs, or approach his door. Another impatient pounding of a fist against the flimsy wood as Matt makes his way to the door, and he has to grumble, “I’m coming,” in concern they’d kick it in. The vague smell of orchids and blood and metal washes over his tongue when he opens the door, and before he can say anything, she says, “Hello, Matthew.”

His heart jumps into his throat at her voice. “El—Elektra?” It’s hard to convince himself he’s not hallucinating again until she steps past the threshold and takes his hand in hers. 

“It’s me,” she promises. Her heart’s beating faster than he’s ever heard it, breaths shaky and stilted. She’s _unsure_. “I wasn’t going to come back here,” Elektra admits quietly. Matt can’t even _begin_ to sort through the emotions raging through him. He doesn’t plan to wrap his arms around her far too eagerly, breathing the scent that’s uniquely _her_ , a sob building in his throat; it just happens. Elektra hugs him back tightly for a moment, then tilts her head back. She must be looking at him, one hand coming up to caress the side of his face gently, and Matt fights to keep his expression from crumbling. They stay there moments that seem like hours. _I was holding her when…when…I was holding her when_ …his previous words echo mockingly through his head. He remembers how he held her as the world collapsed around them. The taste of concrete and ash and blood flit over his tongue. The sound of Elektra’s heartbeat, her breath whispering softly against his skin the last things he knows before everything dissolves into white confusion and pain. 

“You’re not there anymore,” Elektra murmurs softly, leaning against him. Then the moment’s gone. She nudges the door shut with her boot, shakes herself slightly and finally lets her hand fall to her side, stalks past him and into his living room. “Were you ever going to invite me in?”  
He’s silent as she makes herself at home, pulling a mug out of his cabinet, nails clinking against the ceramic. She’s in the process of heating water when when he says it.  
“You’re alive.” 

“Mm.” Indifferent. 

“No, no. You don’t get to do this,” he spits out. 

“Do what?” 

“Come back here, after, after—you don’t get to shrug this off, like nothing happened,” Matt hisses back. “You…I thought you were dead. _Again_.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” she sighs.

“I want to know how you’re standing here. I want to know how many times I’m going to have to hold you as you die, how—”

She crosses the space between them in a heartbeat. “Stop,” Elektra murmurs. “The truth is—well, the truth is, I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m still alive.” Matt scoffs, and she continues, twisting her fingers together like they need _something_ to do. “If I had to guess, it’s the…substance. The one that brought me back the first time. It’s still in me, you know. I can _feel_ it.” When she shudders, Matt can’t stop himself from taking her restless hands in his, stilling their movement. She’s not wrong, about the substance. It’s fainter now than it was before, but he can still sense it, a sick _wrongness_ that bubbles just under her skin.

“I’m sorry, Matthew.” He can tell she’s _truly sorry,_ regret staining her words like the smell of blood soaking into fresh snow. “I wouldn’t have…just let me get out of your hair, then.” There isn’t any trace of her usual unrepentant self. Elektra exhales, pulling her hands away from his and turning away.  
“No.” He catches her arm, the movement quick, jerky. He’s _not_ letting her go again. She turns back towards him, breath catching in surprise. “You think I’m going to let you leave?” She doesn’t respond, waits for him to continue. Matt moves closer, shaking his head as he traces the outline of her jaw with his thumb gently. “After I just got you back?” Her expression’s pulling into the slightest smile as Matt closes the distance, presses his lips against hers. Elektra kisses back, touch ginger and slow at first, then she embraces him fully in a bruising grip, giving it her everything. When they finally pull apart, he’s smiling too, breathless and _alive_ again. “Never, Elektra.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
